


Before (or was it After?)

by LittleSnowyRascal9842



Category: Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Explorers of Time & Explorers of Darkness & Explorers of Sky
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Not Beta Read, Not a Trainwreak, Time Travel, We die like real men, but im pretty good at editing so the mistakes shouldn't be too abvious, for now, unless they are like in the last tag i wrote, will add tags as i actually write the story, wow ok this is absolutely
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 01:21:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16776775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSnowyRascal9842/pseuds/LittleSnowyRascal9842
Summary: What the world was like before it was saved, and after it wasn't.





	Before (or was it After?)

Her first sight is that of darkness. Stale, stiff, oppressing darkness. Her surroundings are still; she can feel no wind, no movement, no light. She can hear only silence, though it is not peaceful like she remembers. It is like the silence she feels when her parents would call her into a room and ask her if she knew what she did. The kind where you can feel your heart beating in your chest, where you can feel the disappointment in their gaze, where you know that if you don't say anything then nothing will happen but you are stuck there, waiting, until you say something, because though with silence you are safe, it is uncomfortable and steals away your voice. You know that it would be easier to say something, anything, but you c a n ’ t.

It feels like the day she watched, detached, as her best friend choked and fell to the ground, weak and helpless and-

"You're awake?"

She sits up and blinks. There is no color, but she isn't colorblind- she wasn't, she knew. But as she blinks again- twice, thrice, four times, five- the monochrome her eyes offer to her remains. Perhaps she is in a room with bad lighting? She knows that there are ways to make someone believe they can no longer see color, but those were old, old, and she had refused to use them for many years.

Not that her wishes had any impact besides making her chest tighten and her throat close up and her mouth dry out.

She blinks, and studies her surroundings.

There is a tree in front of her. There are many trees around her, a forest. There is dirt and sharp grass beneath her body and cold rocks all around her, digging into her back. She is outside. She is outside, so there should be light. Perhaps it is night? But with night there are stars, a moon. Perhaps there is pollution, perhaps it is a new moon?

She breathes in. The air is stale, like in her friend's parents' room, where the windows and doors had not been opened since they had finished moving in, where there was a large mess in every corner of the room, and some plates that you know had not been finished but had never been brought down because the stench forces its way into your body, leaving you staggering and disoriented and-

"Hey. Are you okay?"

There was a voice, but it came and left like a phone call that only barely connected in the first place and though it was trying its best to stay connected, it wasn't working. She thinks that it must be her imagination, because voices do not sound like that and there is nothing around her but a cold stale portrait of a world that did not exist.

Then something warm falls on her shoulder, and she **_reacts._**

Her hands push down hard on the dry and gritty earth below her, giving her enough force to spin herself around and jump into a crouch. Her left leg straightens out beside her, and her fingertips graze the ground. she is crouched, coiled, tense-

She is not alone.

In front of her, a creature stiffens, falling down onto all fours, legs and arms bent in anticipation of movement. Its tail rested deceivingly upon the ground— it likely has more strength than is intuitively obvious. Its eyes narrow, and something on its face starts sliding down, and—

"I’ve heard that the correct response to being saved from certain was 'thank you’— not that I've actually seen anyone do it, but a sign you won’t attack me would be nice."

—it was its mouth, and it can speak. It is the voice that does not sound like a voice. She furrows her brow, and observes the creature (it has a name, she thinks, and she knows it, she's sure). Its eyes pop up from the top of its head. Its belly appears to be darker than the rest of its body, and she would bet that it was a different color. Her first thought is it must be green, because it seems to be the same shade of gray as the trees and grass surrounding them, and she accepts the thought without much confusion because there are too many things that are not right and she can feel her chest tightening and her throat closing up and the air is too stale and the world is too still and she is—

"Hey. Can you speak? You got a name?"

She blinks. It's in a position to react, not attack, she realizes belatedly. It does not know what to expect from her, but it would not be surprised if she attacks. She won't, she thinks, and neither will it, so she relaxes her stance and falls down onto the stiff ground, crossing her legs and relaxing her arms on her lap. She continues to stare at it, though, not really knowing what it will do now that she is in a perfect position to be attacked, but her body is stiff and heavy and she is beginning to register a familiar pounding in her head. The creature stares back at her, but it relaxes its stance slightly. It does not make to leave, however, and that confuses her; but she does not leave either, so they remain there. The silence presses down on her, and she needs sound, she needs it, she _needs_ —

"Who are you?" Her throat rasps. Her throat is itchy, so she coughs, and coughs, and it hurts but at least it's _sound_ —

"So you can talk," It replies blandly (was that sarcasm?) "I'm a treecko. What are you?"

She is quiet for a moment, studying the treecko’s face, "I'm a human," She replies, copying its response that wasn’t an answer with her own.The itching in her throat remains, but she swallows the coughs. The silence is quieter now, less deafening, but she can feel it just behind her, watching, waiting for her to let down her guard so that it can come back with a vengeance and scream into her soul. The treecko appraises her, its eyes drifting up and down her body. Her back is stiff and straight, and the pounding is getting louder and making it hard to think. She realizes it asked her name— but it also claimed that it saved her, and she cannot remember being in a position from which she would need saving from. She tries to recall— what had happened before she woke up in this glade?— but all it does is worsen the pain beating in her head. She wants to hold her head with her hands— maybe if she holds her skull then the beating will stop— but she also doesn’t want to seem helpless; though she admits to herself that she wasn’t quite certain which outcome she desired more.

It saves her from deciding by speaking up. "I would like to say that there are no more humans..." it pauses. "But considering where I found you, I suppose that's not impossible."

"What did you save me from?" She asks, too curious to even remember what she had been considering— but then her head beats even harder, and faster— Humans, humans, she knows humans, she’s seen humans— Not too long ago—

The grovyle stares at her for a bit before replying.

"You were in...ca.........round.....Ice....."

She closes her eyes and presses her fingertips against her temples, resting her elbow on her lap.

“....ar.........k?”

It is speaking. It is. It is. Focus, she —focus, she must focu— It pain; it hurts, she- pain, she— feels— pain— 

Her head pounds, and all she can feel is the cold of the dead and silent as the monochrome of her vision falls to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 6/14/19

**Author's Note:**

> First of all- I swear sometimes. Deal with it.
> 
> EDIT: I am constantly in a state of editing this. I do not particularly care if someone doesn't like what I change, partly because I highly doubt the people reading this (face it, nobody reads pokemon mystery dungeon fanfics. Except you, I guess) will give a crap in the first place. As I continue to edit this, I will change the tags accordingly.
> 
> Also note, I have never had a migraine. Ever. So first of all, my apologies if you have. Second of all, my apologies if I misrepresent them, as I admit that I did not bother to look them up or ask someone what they were like.
> 
> Edit 6/14/19: rewrote first chapter, edited these notes.


End file.
